Second Chances
by hello heartbreak
Summary: She saved herself, by saving him. — AU, NamiXas


_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts (if I did, I would be really rich) or the beautiful song below._

_And the God of second chance  
Picked her up and He let her dance  
Through a world that isn't kind  
And all this time, preparing her the one  
To hold her up when she comes undone  
- Bebo Norman_

_**second chances;**  
__and perhaps, a new beginning._

---

She'd met him in the hospital after one of her asthma attacks. Actually, he'd found her, by stepping into the wrong ward. His hair had been a lovely brown that reminded her of hot chocolate and marshmallows. And it had stood up at all angles - she remembers thinking that he looked somewhat like a porcupine.

The first sentence he'd uttered to her was, "Hello, my name is Sora! What's yours?" even though he'd knocked over a vase in her room as he rushed in.

She'd answered without thinking, because it had come as a pleasant surprise to her, since she hadn't encountered children in quite a while, and the few that she met were usually gloomy because of their illnesses. This boy was something else altogether – he was like the sun, however clichéd the comparison was. It was accurate enough, with his genuine grin, and twinkling eyes that never failed to amuse her.

He had replied that it was a nice name, much to her embarrassment. After that accidental encounter, he started coming on a regular basis, at two in the afternoon, right after her daily check-ups. Most of the time, it was him doing the talking, and she learned that he was here because he had some sort of amnesia with a long name she still can't quite recall (who's the one with the amnesia now?), he liked Disney a lot, and the sea. In return, she told him about how she liked drawing, and even showed him several sketches from time to time – something that she'd never done before. He was always so awed by her skills, and this made her smile. She figured that she'd shown more emotion in the time she'd spent with him, as compared to the previous fourteen years of her life.

But, together with the happiness he brought her, there was also a certain amount of pain, because that's just the way things are. The thing with Sora was that he chattered a lot, rather like a hummingbird flitting about flowers rapidly. Don't get me wrong, she loved that aspect of him. They were like day and night – he was as brilliant as she was silent, and he made up for everything she felt that she could never do, like hold a decent conversation with a fellow human being.

It was not the fact that he spoke a little more than others that numbed her heart; rather, it was the topic that he talked about most that made her pick purple, indigo and black from her box of pastels.

"I'm going to get well real soon so that I can meet Kairi, because I know she's out there waiting for me!" he would say, teeth flashing in that familiar grin that warmed her heart. The ironic thing was, the mention of this "Kairi" had already enveloped her heart with ice, and Sora's smile wasn't enough to thaw the frozen water.

---

Pencil lead cracks on her sketch and she bites her lip to prevent herself from letting out a slight whimper. Sora may seem dense and dumb, but it's small things like these that he notices in great detail. She figures it's because he's highly emphatic. When he asks her what's wrong, she merely shakes her head and smiles a little tiredly at him. She chides herself for thinking bad thoughts – bad thoughts in which she hopes that he will forget Kairi. It is enough, she tells herself. It is enough that he is here, with me.

The next day, at two in the afternoon, Sora doesn't come into her ward with that goofy beam on his face. Instead, a nurse hands her a letter – a piece of notepaper in an envelope, addressed to her. She fingers the messy words written in blue ink, in the vast whiteness of the envelope. Trembling slightly, pale fingers pry the sticky paper apart, retrieving the previous letter from within. A single sentence stands out in stark contrast from the others.

_"__I'm leaving now, but you'll definitely make more friends, friends that are even better than I am!"_

Her shoulders are shaking visibly now, and she is glad that no one is in the same room as she is. The lined paper is returned to the envelope and placed in a drawer – she doesn't want to remember which one. Tears threaten to fall, but they don't. Crystal-clear blue eyes are surprisingly dry as she takes out her sketchbook with a certain amount of calmness that scares her. Lines of brown, beige and blue gradually form Sora on her white paper, faster, faster, faster as the strokes get bolder and harsher. She is desperate to capture his image down in her drawing, desperate to keep him by her side. It begins to drizzle outside, the rain forming long scars down the glass windows. Her wrist hurts, all of a sudden, and she can't continue drawing. She is frantic as she tears the unfinished picture out of her sketchbook and shoves it into another random drawer that she hopes she will never find again.

Weeks, maybe months pass by. Her asthma attacks had reduced in the period of time that Sora had been in the hospital with her, but now they are back to the normal number of once every fortnight. It is dawn when she finds that she can't breathe properly again, her vision blurring as she reaches for the emergency button by her bedside. It isn't long before she's practically carried into the Emergency Unit, into the nasty room with bright white lights that blind her every time she opens her eyes.

Once again, she escapes the clutches of Death, and returns to her ward. It is on this trip that she sees that achingly familiar brown, and that familiar deep blue. "Sora?" she whispers as he walks past her. He doesn't respond. No, it isn't right. The hair is too subdued, the eyes are too sad, and the smile has been replaced by an aggrieved expression – one that she has seen elsewhere…

Her own blue eyes widen as she realizes that it is her own expression; it is the look that she wears on her face most of the time. Something clicks inside of her, like striking a matchstick, and a flame is rekindled. It astonishes her to stumble upon this revelation, because she's never felt this way before, not even with Sora.

She wants to save this boy very badly. Perhaps this is the way Sora felt, when he first met her. Saving him will save herself as well, she is convinced.

_"__I want to help you."_

She learns from the others that he is from Ward 497, which is just a floor above hers, and is quite a delinquent. There is something for her to do now, and that is to lurk about this boy without him noticing, finding more about him.

He doesn't like to take his medicine, and doesn't like to go for his daily check-ups either. It seems as though he just wants to return to his normal life, and not care about whatever ailment he has. Tsk, she has picked a difficult target – she is sure that she had not been such a terrible patient for Sora to reform. Nevertheless, the boy intrigues her.

It isn't until three weeks later that she gathers the courage to approach the boy. They are on the rooftop – he is lying flat on the ground with his hands behind his head, eyes closed as the wind sifts through his soft brown locks. She stands in the shadows for a while, before walking towards the seemingly sleeping figure in the sunlight. He doesn't stir. Taking a deep breath, she walks to the railing just a few inches away from him, then tiptoes and stretches her arms out wide to simulate a flying bird to give herself confidence. She knows that he's cracking an eyelid open to glance at her absurd action.

Turning slightly to face him, she musters up a smile – a gesture that isn't returned because he's still dazed. She looks like an angel to him, in the white dress she's wearing, and the sunlight reflecting off her golden hair, together with the clear blue eyes, like the ocean.

"Hello, my name is Namine. What's yours?" she asks, feeling a sense of déjà vu. She doesn't have the same hype that Sora can create effortlessly, but she is strangely comforting, in the calm tone that she uses.

The boy blinks once, twice, then looks away when he realizes that he's staring at her. Then he figures that she's just asked him a question, and takes a while to register it.

"Oh. Um, I'm Roxas," he replies uncertainly.

_"__That's a nice name."_

_______**and another page is turned.** _

_____---_

_______Author's Notes: My first Kingdom Hearts fic – I hope I didn't make the characters too OOC. I love both Namine and Roxas a lot, and hopefully this fic didn't do that much of an injustice to the both of them. Please review! (:_


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